Casting Fire
by werewolf.love
Summary: When an old flame steps back into Pansy's life, how much will she risk to get it back? Femslash and Het in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one.

Chapter One

The air smelled of blood and insides so much that with one quick intake of breath, Pansy felt she might puke. The bodies before her, scattered mutinously along the forest floor, weren't helping her fight down the nausea and she couldn't help but roll her eyes at the messy job he had done. Draco had promised her a clean sacrifice, but a clean sacrifice she had not been given. Now, Draco was nowhere to be found and she was left alone amongst the wreckage of foul smelling flesh, intestines, and pools of blood that gathered in the soil like puddles after a rainstorm. Pansy took an oath to kick his arse when she finally got her hands on him, the inconsiderate moron.

Trying not to concentrate her attention too much on the bodies (or more accurately, what was left of them), she directed her mahogany eyes towards the stars. There wasn't much of the sky she could see thanks to the heavily leafed trees towering above her but she still spotted the moon, which was full, and Sirius. Her heart fluttered warily with thoughts of her next move. It was unquestionable that the bodies would be taken care of by morning, for the wolves surely must have smelt the blood by now. Pansy ran a hand though the short hair that matched the deep blackness of the night. She definitely did not want to be around when Greyback and the other wolves showed up, which would be any minute. Not because she was afraid of them, simply because she didn't care for the sounds of ripping skin. Indeed, she found them most unpleasant. So, deliberately turning away from the slaughter of humans, Pansy began her light-footed trek back home, hoping that Draco would be waiting for her there. Imagining her boot colliding into his mocking face led her with graceful speed away from the sacrificial bodies and out of the forest just as she heard the howl of the wolves. The distinct ceremonial cry sounding the beginning of the feast echoed in Pansy's ears. She knew how they must be feeding just at that moment and fought the image of teeth and blood from entering her head. But she still couldn't help her stomach from turning. She really needed to get used to the whole death thing if she was going to survive this war and be of any use to anyone.

The small house stood by the outskirts of the woods. They were never worried. The forest was dense and the weres rarely strayed from their leader, Fenrir Greyback, and he was wise enough to keep away from the wizarding safe house unless important news needed passing along.

Pansy smiled when she saw a slim silhouette against the yellow glow of candles from within the house. Forgetting her temporary frustration with him, she ran the remainder of the way to the door. She raised the cherry wand in her hand and worked the Locking Wards before grasping the handle and swinging it open enthusiastically.

"Draco!" she called as she turned on her heels to face the boy standing by the window. But when she met the eyes of the boy, they were not the familiar icy grays belonging to Draco. Rather, they were chocolate and not belonging to a boy at all.

"Ginny?" Pansy asked. The petite brunette calmed her shock with a graceful movement of her hand and offered the redhead a faint smile. When the Weasley daughter returned it, Pansy relaxed and moved closer. She gestured to a chair and they both sat across from one another by the fire.

"Sorry about this, Pansy," Ginny began. She looked distraught enough. Her fiery hair was in a messier state than usual, falling longer than it had the last time they had seen each other. Nearly reaching her waist, it was wavier than it had been before, as well. But the hair was not the only difference Pansy noticed in the girl. Her eyes, once so naïve, were deeper and her brows furrowed, bringing intensity to the freckly face that Pansy was sure had never been there in all the years of knowing her.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, not completely caring whether it was or not. It was true that the war had caused Pansy to grow warmer, but she would never be anything other than a Slytherin at heart. Of course, she was no longer on the wrong side; Draco had made sure of that. Shortly after their sixth year, when the school had been shut down and the war had been at its height, Draco had turned up in town again, him and Snape seeking recruits to join the Order, for it was no longer the time to play double agent and it was out in the open that they were both supporters of Albus. Soon after their return, Draco had sought out Pansy, finding her in a sleazy strip joint.

"Parkinson," she had heard him say as she eased herself down the pole. She had turned to find him there, looking his usual, dark and decadent self, dressed in an all black suit. As she pushed a hip toward him, he grabbed her by the waist and brought her down off the platform she danced on.

"Draco Malfoy!" she had yelled, mortified and piss drunk. "What are you about?" And he had looked at her with adoring eyes and smiled.

"Put your clothes on," he had whispered. Pansy had been by his side ever since, and his side included her being involved in the Order of the Phoenix. She would admit, being on the good side had its perks.

Ginny cleared her throat and Pansy wasthrown back into the conversation. She noticed Ginny still had that nervous habit of twirling her hair. "I'm fine," Ginny lied. "Only," she hesitated a moment before plunging in. "Percy is dead."

"Oh," was all Pansy could conjure. By no means had she ever liked Percy Weasley, nor was she sad to hear of his death. Even on her first day at Hogwarts, she had seen that curly mop of red hair and loathed everything about it. Funny how she had grown to like all the other Weasleys so much these last few months.

Ginny wasn't crying. Pansy knew she was never the type and, even if she were, would never have purposefully put Pansy in the awkward situation of comforter to the grievous.

For this she was thankful.

"There was an attack at the ministry," Ginny continued strongly. There was that pure Gryffindor bravery Draco and Harry always joked with each other about. Her own brother dead and not even a trace of heartache on her face. Perhaps, Pansy thought, she had not the bravery of Godric but the indifference of Salazar.

"Were there other deaths?" Pansy asked, truly gaining interest for the first time. Ginny shook her head and Pansy had to sigh in relief. Fewer deaths were better than more, after all. "How did it happen?"

"I don't know the details. There was an explosion…Draco's gone to find out more." Ginny moved her eyes back to the window. Pansy wondered why since it was too dark to see anything but their own reflections in the pane.

"So you sent him to do your bidding, did you?" asked Pansy in a voice that made Ginny's eyes shoot back to her.

"Yes I did. I didn't particularly wish to view pieces of my brother blown to bits around the ministry." Her words should have carried emotion but they were as blank as her eyes. When Pansy said nothing, Ginny spoke again. "Where were you?"

Pansy laughed. "You know where I was."

"You're right. I do," Ginny said. "I suppose what I really want to know is, why were you there?"

"Sorry love, that's official Order of the Phoenix business," Pansy answered mirthfully. Ginny rolled her eyes in a way that made her look every inch the young girl of sixteen she was.

"Pansy…" Ginny warned and Pansy relented slightly.

"I was feeding the wolves." When this explanation didn't have the impact Pansy wished for, she continued further. "Lupin and Snape both decided it would be a good idea to have the weres on our side, as I'm sure you know. And of course, after the capture of Greyback in the fall, they thought who better to control the others than he?"

"So you're telling me that Fenrir Greyback, the fiercest, nastiest werewolf in Europe is living in the woods by your house?"

"Safe house, Ginny. I only stay here on the full moons with Draco."

Ginny frowned. "I don't get it."

"Silly girl. We have Greyback under the imperius curse so as not to transform any others. And on nights of the full," Pansy paused as a loud howl rang appropriately into the night sky, "Draco and I keep them at bay with simple human sacrifices." Ginny was gawking now. "The ministry Okayed it. It's fine."

"How does everyone feel about this? _Human sacrifices_?"

"To be honest, most thought the idea was excellent. Just what we need."

"You're telling me _Hermione_ didn't protest?"

Pansy smiled at her guest. "Maybe a little bit." Ginny fought back another eye roll. "Azkaban sends us along prisoners every month, Draco and I perform the little work left to be done, and the wolves clean it up. Everyone's safe, everyone's happy."

"Except," argued Ginny. "The dead men."

"Ah, not so hasty," Pansy interjected. "We sacrifice women as well."

* * *

Pansy tossed in her sleep that night, restless on the uncomfortable cot set up in the den. She had given up her own king-sized bed to Ginny and now she was paying for it. A cold sweat collected on her brow and she was shivering slightly beneath the paper-thin blanket that barely covered her. In her dream, she was back in the Hogwarts dungeon, pressed between a wall and a redhead. Details were unclear but the feeling it brought to her was crystal. She could distinguish deep, wild eyes and freckles and she could feel the feathery weight of a body pushed against her. Suddenly, the hair began to melt into a shaggy coat, the freckles vanished and, where before soft hands had held her face, sharp claws were puncturing her flesh. Full lips opened in a snarl to reveal teeth like daggers and the deep eyes morphed into a yellow glare, the pupils forming into tiny, penetrating slits. Pansy was at Grimmauld place now, staring down the vicious beast as Lupin, Draco, and Arthur Weasley egged it on. Pansy tried to curse them all, to run away, to do _anything_, but all she could do was stand there and wait for the creature to attack. The beast's teeth gleamed as its jaw unhinged for the swallow. Again, Pansy opened her mouth to scream, but her throat was being crushed. She couldn't breathe. Claws were ripping into her throat, tearing the skin as its razor-like teeth clamped down on her stomach, biting at her intestines and dragging them out through the new gap in her abdomen. Black blood gushed from Pansy's throat as she watched her insides being torn from her body…

"Pansy!" Ginny yelled, holding out her wand, the tip illuminating the sweat on Pansy's forehead. Pansy opened her eyes and sat up, nearly tipping the flimsy cot over in her twitchy movements. She breathed in deep, desperately swallowing oxygen and grasping her unscathed throat. She stole a glance at Ginny in her panic. The girl hadn't completely sat down by the cot but was crouching, her knees trembling in a way that made Pansy wonder how long she had been like that, watching as she tried to wake her from the nightmare. That's when Pansy remembered to be embarrassed and her cheeks flushed unforgivingly. For a second, she was thankful for the shield of night that cloaked her blush, but then she realized the bright light shining in her face and glared at Ginny, who immediately lowered her wand and whispered, "nox". The light at the tip went out and the two young women were left in ominous darkness, save the light of the full moon spilling in through the window. Ginny opened her mouth to say something, reminding Pansy vividly of the teeth from her dream, but closed it again. Ginny, Pansy knew, was not the type of person to ask questions she already knew the answer to, like "_Are you okay?" _It was painstakingly obvious Pansy wasn't okay, so Ginny wouldn't dare ask, nor would she walk on eggshells around it. Because of this, for the second time since she had arrived, Pansy was thankful for who Ginny was. They were, in fact, much alike: tough, smart, and resourceful. Just as Pansy had presumed, the next words out of Ginny's mouth weren't words of comfort but, "What did you dream about?"

That tendency for blind bluntness was also something the two witches shared, so Pansy took no time in answering. Instead she flexed her boldness.

"You. And Greyback," she said. Her voice may have echoed in the room, it was so silent. Ginny cleared her throat. "But first it was you," Pansy pressed. Ginny drew a small breath.

"He was attacking you," Ginny evaluated aloud, completely abandoning the basis of Pansy's statement. Or perhaps she was just ignoring it all together. Either way, when she got no response from the brunette, she continued. "Understandable. Being around werewolves so often, seeing what they can do…surely it's not the easiest thing to stomach."

Steam may have come from Pansy's ears. "_I_ stomach it."

Ginny laughed. "Which is the reason your subconscious doesn't."

Pansy shifted uneasily on the cot, the thirty-year-old springs creaking beneath her. Ginny laughed again, probably at the scowl on Pansy's face, and she stood from her crouching position, stretching her legs

"I'm going to bed. You should try to get back to sleep as well. We need to meet Draco at the Ministry of Magic tomorrow, then there's an Order meeting I'm to attend," said Ginny, emphasizing that last bit. It would be her very first meeting. Pansy drew her legs up to her chest and hugged them: the coward's position, she realized and quickly stood up, matching Ginny in height.

"I'm not tired," Pansy said. Ginny only nodded and turned back to the door.

"Okay," she said finally, passing back through the bedroom doorframe. The door clicked and locked, pissing Pansy off. Who was _she_ to lock doors here? She was no one.

No one, Pansy reminded herself, but the object of her dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters.

Chapter Two

Pansy liked to act as if nothing scared her. After all, she was a Slytherin and she was tough. She didn't take anyone's shit and most knew better than to try and give her any. But Pansy _was_ afraid of the dream she had had. The nightmare. It was frightening, how unnerved it had made her, and in front of Ginny of all people. Pansy was humiliated. The next morning, after an uneasy night of wakefulness, Ginny had strutted into the room all annoyingly bright-eyed and whimsically polished. Sibling dead and she looked amazing. Pansy had grumbled something nasty under her breath before tromping off to the bath, set and determined to come out looking just as good, if not _better_ than Ginny Weasley. No poor, dirty witch would show up a Parkinson.

Now she stood in the small bathroom and looked in the mirror. It had an ancient, valuable-looking frame. Probably some silly trinket Dumbledore had sent along to help "decorate" her and Draco's safe house. Over the past few months, the house had been accumulating so much meaningless rubbish that Pansy couldn't turn around without her eyes resting on something equally ancient (and undoubtedly, equally silly). She didn't know why Draco even bothered to showcase the random uglies. She had thought him better taste than that.

Smoothing her black hair with a careful hand, she remembered her dream and how the blood had soaked her locks crimson. How Greyback's eyes had gleamed with hunger and power. Pansy's own eyes reflected revulsion in the old mirror. Revulsion and fear and anger. How she hated to be afraid. Pansy was applying a light coat of mascara when a heavy hand beat against the door.

"What is it?" Pansy hollered as she hastened to finish up her makeup. She didn't have to strain her ears to hear the impatience of Ginny on the other side of the door. The tapping of her foot was only too obvious.

"We've got to go. Now!" Ginny said, her voice a tad too loud for Pansy's liking this early in the morning. It had to be no later than 6 a.m.

"Fine," and Pansy walked out the bathroom door, revealing herself to be oogled if need it be by the redhead. But Ginny didn't even spare Pansy a glance. She already had her back turned, lacing up her boots by the front door. She was, Pansy evaluated, appropriately bundled for the chilly morning. Unlike Pansy, who had dressed for the occasion not the convenience, her shortest leather skirt and tightest red corset hugging her womanly curves. She wondered if she had underdressed and, deciding that maybe she had, threw on her leather trench coat that hung on the coat rack by the door.

"Let's go, then," Pansy said, mocking Ginny's own impatient ring. Ginny looked up and scowled at her. Pansy grimaced at the pale, freckled face and wondered how something that should have been ugly was so the extreme opposite. Surely something had to be imperfect about Ginny. Pansy just hadn't found it yet, was all. Of course, the remaining _living_ members of the Weasleys were just as attractive as her, the only faulty one having died last night. That left her with eight smoldering redheads, one of them kneeling before her right at that second. In her head, Pansy calculated how many of them she had ever had something with. Her dark features and milky skin worked for her, winning her the fancy of anyone she so chose. Charlie was one and the first. They had shared a kiss after ten minutes together Pansy's fourth year, when he had come with the dragons for the Triwizards Tournament. Second had been George, a snog in the Dungeons one unattended night of detention with Professor Snape, during fifth year as well. Third was Fred…on accident. She had thought it was George and, one night after sending him to Umbridge, she had cornered him against a wall and kissed him. Again it happened, and again, and the two became periodic bed partners as well as good friends.

The fourth Weasley that had experienced Pansy's advancements was right in front of her. Sixth year. _All_ of sixth year, Ginny's fifth. They had fallen in together unexpectedly that first week, neither prepared for the attraction that followed. It had been almost unbearable for Pansy not to have Ginny, and for a while, she had believed that feeling mutual, what with the late night meetings that continued throughout the majority of the year. But Ginny had had other interests, boyfriends…Harry _Potter_. When he had finally kissed her, Ginny had finally lost interest in Pansy. It had been a while now. Too long a time since Pansy had touched Ginny. And she'd be damned to be the first one to acknowledge that.

After a few minutes of messing with her laces, Ginny stood back up, a satisfied grin on her face. Pansy thought about reminding her of Percy's death, but at the last moment managed to restrain her inner bitch and smile back. Pansy walked past her, careful not to even brush a shoulder, and opened the door for the redhead. Ginny flipped a silky piece of hair behind her shoulder and walked outside, the crickets chirping wildly in the still-dark sky. Pansy searched the sky for the moon and found it. She remembered the dream again. Greyback's eyes, the blood stained teeth. She saw the bodies Draco had left strewn about the forest floor and fought down a gag. Ginny turned to her, worried.

"Pansy?" she inquired.

"Yes?" Pansy answered when she found her voice, all deep and raspy and smooth. Ginny tucked her hair behind her ears and Pansy frowned. It wasn't a good look. Ginny had large ears. Without thinking, Pansy reached a hand out to fix it, but the startled expression on Ginny's face made Pansy stop, her fingertips grazing the red hair slightly. And like lightening, she pulled her hand back and brought it to her side, wishing desperately for a pocket she could shove it into for attempted casualty. She silently cursed her skintight, leather cladness which lacked room for pockets and made a mental note to always wear pants with pockets around Ginny Weasley…just in case.

"Yes?" Pansy asked again, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Ginny had already recovered herself from the awkwardness and was busying herself with what must have been an extremely fascinating button on her sweater. She looked up with great brown eyes when Pansy's voice sounded again.

"You were about to be sick," Ginny stated simply. "How come?"

The nerve of a Gryffindor, Pansy thought. What kind of question was that? The exact question Pansy would be answering truthfully, as she was never one to lie to cover for herself. And around Ginny, it would never suffice. If Ginny could be brutally honest, so could Pansy.

"The bodies," said Pansy. Ginny nodded.

"From your nightmare?" she asked. Pansy forgot to be pissed off about the fact that Ginny had invaded her dreams last night, both in sleep and reality.

"From my nightmare and from the real thing," Pansy said, daring to stare Ginny straight in the eyes, who just stared right back.

"The sacrificial bodies," Ginny said, as if reciting something from a text. Possibly something she picked up from Granger. Possibly her own little annoying habit of knowing everything.

"Yes, the ones Draco left for the weres. I just remember things a bit too vividly sometimes," she admitted, still not lessening her stare. Her words might be cowardice, but she would never be.

"If you need to talk about it…" Ginny let her words fade away, leaving them to hang as a quiet offer of friendship.

"We need to get to the Ministry," Pansy said, breaking the alliance. Ginny shrugged, grabbed Pansy's hand and they apparated together with a pivot of their feet.


End file.
